Electric Lutes and Vodka
by travelswith
Summary: Time traveling crack. Arthur panics, Merlin's in leather, there's alcohol, making out and almost-confessions. Arthur/Merlin.


"How did this happen?" Arthur demanded, utterly aghast.

"It happened," Merlin stammered. "It just did, things happen!"

"Not… these kind of things," Arthur said. Only moments ago, he had been storming into Merlin's to tell him off for being completely

They were standing on the edge of what appeared to be a giant stadium and tens of thousands of people were screaming at them. Bright lights nearly blinded him. He looked down to find himself clad in stylish black hide and there were some sort of flat lute strapped over his shoulder, wires going everywhere. Merlin had one too, only his was purple and he was shirtless.

Arthur's eyes dropped to Merlin's hips, which jutted out delicately over the top of his leather trousers before a pair of dainty undergarments landed on his face. He ripped them off and threw them back into the swarm. The angry mob went wild.

"Why are they screaming?" he yelled, brandishing his lute like a sword. "What do they want?"

"I don't know!" Merlin said. He scanned the stadium and then grabbed Arthur's hand, pulling him to a dark corner on the edge of the stadium, where a fat man slapped them on the back and said, "Excellent, boys! Best show, yet. They're going mad for you! You certainly rocked the boat tonight."

"I'm so sorry," Merlin said.

The fat man blinked, and then laughed. "You look like you both need a stiff one. C'mon."

He led them through a dark corridor until finally they came to a door with a star on it. The fat man pushed it open and ushered them into the room. "'ere, you boys just relax and I'll be back in a spell with some girls."

Before he left, Merlin pulled at his sleeve. He said, "Sir, I really do profusely apologize."

"For what, son?"

"For, well, rocking the boat? We didn't mean to. I'm sure it was just a huge misunderstanding."

The fat man stared at him and then nodded, warily backing out the door and muttering something under his breath. The door swung shut. They were alone.

Auther took a deep a breath and turned to his manservant. "What are pretentious rock star smackies?"

Merlin shrugged his shoulders. He was _smiling_.

"Stop it!" Author snapped.

"Stop…?"

"Smiling! We're obviously trapped in some dimension of hell so just stop! It's so… _inappropriate_."

"We aren't in hell, Arthur," Merlin laughed. He collapsed onto a plush settee and looked around, his eyes glittering. "I think we're just under a spell- time travelling, perhaps."

Arthur had to admit, that did make more sense. He said: "I smelt the scent of wicked sorcery. What putrid universe is this, where they pelt royalty with _underthings_?"

"Maybe it was a sign of affection?"

"I think not!" Arthur huffed. "Good god, this hide is stifling. I want my old clothes back."

"I think you look great," said Merlin, the same idiotic smile plastered to his idiotic face. His face was flushed with excitement, his dark hair escaping from its usual Roman style normalcy and pointing all directions like rays of the sun.

"That," said Arthur, "is a given. Now how do we get out of here?"

"The door is usually a good start, my liege."

Arthur could feel his face go tense with frustration. He pointed a finger at Merlin and said, "I'll have none of that! And if you think I'm going back out there to be fed to the sharks without my sword, you've-"

He heard shouts and loud footsteps from outside and jumped. "Quick, they're back, barricade the fortress!"

"I don't think they want to harm us," said Merlin.

"_Mer_lin!"

They eventually managed to bar the door with a chair. They then slammed a dressing table against it, just for good measure. There was a series of loud banging, but eventually it went away. They were safe, for now.

Arthur's fury began to subside and melt into despair. He grabbed a clear, ice-cold bottle from one of the tables and pulled the lid off with his teeth. It was alcohol, that much he could tell. It said, 'PERFECT' on it. He took a long swig, feeling Merlin's eyes on him the whole time.

"Would you like some?" he asked, wiping his mouth with a leathery sleeve.

"I'm not sure," said Merlin.

"Go on," Arthur handed him an unopened bottle. "My status obviously means nothing here. There's a crazy fat man on the other side of that door and an angry mob that wants to kill us. Why not share a last drink before inevitable doom?"

"There's not going to be any doom," Merlin assured him, but he took the bottle, nevertheless.

-

"I think this might be my fault," said Merlin. He was sprawled out on the settee, one arm over his head, the other drooping like a dead thing to the floor. "I didn't mean to, sometimes I get confused."

"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. You couldn't have possibly caused this. It's the work of a great and wicked sorcerer."

"I don't know about _that_," said Merlin, sounding a little pleased with himself. "But… I'm different. I'm special." Arthur groaned from his corner and poured some more of the clear, poisonous liquid down his throat. The bottle, considerable in size, was almost half empty.

"Everybody _knows_ you're special," he said. "It's your ears. They're the ears of a lunatic."

"Not like that. I mean-"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Yes, what do you _mean_?"

Merlin sat up and looked at him with miserable eyes. "Nothing. Forget it."

Arthur stood up shakily and moved towards to settee. The world swam momentarily. "You think you've got it bad- at least you don't have an unreasonable, megalomaniac father to live up to."

"He's not that bad," Merlin protested. He paused, and then: "Alright. He's pretty bad."

"If only he weren't so _bloody_ paranoid."

Merlin stood up and began stalking up and down the room with his hands on his hips, shouting in a deep voice, "Arthur's late- to the stocks! My soup is cold- to the gallows!"

Arthur allowed a grin and pulled the giggling Merlin back down onto the settee. The weight of the boy next to him was comforting. "You are such a girl, sometimes."

Merlin flicked his hair and said, "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Arthur punched him lightly on the arm and they lulled into silence. As unsettling as it was being dropped in some evil dimension, he was glad Merlin was there to ease the panic. The 'PERFECT', burning like fire in his gut, didn't hurt either. He was starting to feel eerily calm about it all.

Merlin cleared his throat. "You know what I think? I think you'll be a better king than he ever was."

"What makes you say that?"

Merlin shrugged. "Call it a hunch." It suddenly occurred to Arthur how close they were. The smell of sweat and leather and alcohol flooded his senses. He looked up into Merlin's dark eyes and fancied he could see the universe flickering back at him.

When it was all over, he could not remember what had made him do it. The strange circumstance, the side affects of magic, the alchohol, his servant's pure earnestness in his trust of Arthur. It could have been any or all of those things that caused him to suddenly lunge forward and cup Merlin's face in his hand and press their lips together. There was a painful moment of hesitation and then Merlin made a small, gruff noise from the back of his throat and kissed him back, hungrily. Arthur felt his blood pumping as Merlin pressed against him, and then-

Cold, stone floor met Arthur's cheek. He scrambled up on all floors and looked around. They were in his room, in the palace. Home. He heaved a sigh of relief. Merlin was beside him, on his back and staring at the ceiling with bewildered eyes. Arthur gave him a hand and pulled him onto his feet.

He glanced at Arthur sheepishly and ran his hand through his messy hair. His lips were pink and swollen.

"That was lucky," he said, breathlessly.

"Yeah," said Arthur. "The spell must've worn off."

"Right. Well. I should… I should _go_. Probably."

He brushed the dust from his shirt and made for the door.

"_Mer_lin," Arthur said. The boy spun around.

"Yes, sire?"

Arthur looked at the wall, and then back at Merlin. It took every bit of drunken strength he had to not step forward. "Probably best not to… tell anyone about-"

"You've got it," said Merlin. He smiled, and then made his exit.

Arthur stood for a while, staring at the space that Merlin had, only moments ago, inhabited. And then his knees buckled and he collapsed onto his bed.


End file.
